Power and Control
by Crystallinee
Summary: At Arkham Asylum, the Joker and Harleen plays a dangerous game. She finally takes her power back. Smut and sexual themes. Joker/Harleen Quinzel. Suicide Squad-verse.


**Set at Arkham before Suicide Squad. Explicit smut.**

* * *

 _Give a little, get a lot  
That's just how you are with love  
Power and control_  
 _I'm gonna make you fall  
_

* * *

" _Touch yourself for me."_

Those words had set her free, at last.

The last months at Arkham had been tense. The doctors stared at Harleen but avoided her gaze, the nurses and guards gossiped, the uneasiness spread like the plague. In the eye of the storm, the Joker watched with a smile. Arkham had turned into a house of cards, ready to fall apart.

For Harleen, those words had been the end of an endless tension. Battling voices over and over in her head, sleepless nights, she turned and tossed in her bed when his words wouldn't leave her alone. He had her in the palm of his hand and she couldn't help but play along when he wanted, letting herself be pulled in. Only to see it crumble when she didn't see him for a few days and he was anxious for her attention.

It was a deadly game, to wait and see, who would give in first.

That day he was sitting across from her in the therapy room, like usual. "Doctor Quinzel." He tasted the word, rolled it on his tongue like it was dipped in warm sugar. The way he looked at her made her insides stir, in the aftermaths of yet another sleepless night. When she had been away from him for more than a day or two she noticed how the shadows underneath his eyes grew dark purple. She wondered if he was just as restless as she was at night.

"What have ya got for me?" he purred. His gaze almost swallowed her whole.

Harleen stuck her hand in her white coat and showed him the small knife she had managed to sneak into the room.

"Good," he said, and she beamed from the praise. She had passed yet another test, no matter how impossible it first sounded when he told her to find a way to bypass the metal detectors – he gave her no instructions, just asked her if she would be able to do it.

Of course she would, she had told him. _Anything for you_.

She held out the knife and let the dull blade glint in the cold florescent light above. He was restrained by his straitjacket, but showed no further interest in the knife.

Instead, he tilted his head slightly to the side. "Are you ready for another test?"

"Mister J – I did all of those things you said. You said this was the last one."

He leaned back in his chair, giving her an incredulous look. "So you can't do it, after all?" She thought she saw disappointment in his grey eyes.

Harleen leaned forward. "I need to get some result to show Dr. Arkham for this month's report. If you just speak, we can come up with something together. I brought you the knife, the documents and cosmetics you wanted."

She leaned across the table when he didn't reply, her hands clenching in front of her as if she was begging. "Just tell me something, J."

"Can you kill the guards, _Doctor_?" he mused, looking her straight in the eyes.

Her heart fluttered at the way he looked at her. She wanted to scream _yes, yes I do_! and present their bodies in front of him. She wanted to see his eyes fill with recognition and pride. Did he still think she was just like anybody else?

"Anything."

He smacked his tongue. He was so clear-minded and focused today, there was no way they could have given him his dose of Thorazine this morning. Had he skipped it?

The Joker let his gaze trail to the side, bored. "I don't think so."

She blinked. "What?"

"You've been holding yourself so nicely together, _Doctor_. What are you _thinking_?"

He leaned forward again, his gaze fastened somewhere on the wall behind her as he spoke, low, soft and melodically.

"You seemed like the kind of… woman who would find a way to do whatever you put your mind to. Was I wrong?"

"I'll kill them," she promised him breathlessly.

"No, no, no," he purred quietly, his thoughts already somewhere else. "Don't spoil my fun just yet. I don't believe you're as kept together as you pretend to be." He gave her a wry smile. "Have you ever touched yourself, Doctor?"

Harleen froze, her lips parted in shock as she tried to quickly compose herself. He saw her reaction and his eyes bore straight into hers. She had never felt so exposed before.

Did he know? How her mind had circled around him, over and over again, last night, and she let her hands play?

Her heart hammered away, but she met his gaze without shame.

"Mister J…"

"Well?" He almost looked comical, giving her an incredulous look as he leaned back. Like a teacher asking their student if they had done the homework - wait, was she supposed to do this? She couldn't remember.

Then his face was right in front of her again. He purred smoothly: "Can you really let go of that little façade of yours? Can you take this kitchen knife – " He nodded towards the item lying on the table – "and stab every guard in this place and walk out the main doors, smeared with their blood, laughing at the joke?"

"I –"

"No, no, no," he chastised her, then his eyes seemed to burn into hers. "You can't."

Harleen straightened up, cheeks flushing. "I'll try, Mister J, I promise."

She leaned over, hoping he would lean closer like he used to do, but now he withdrew. "No."

"Please," she mumbled, her heart aching for him.

"If you really think you can… prove it."

She stared helplessly into his eyes again.

"Touch yourself for me, Doctor," he purred. He wasn't smiling; his face was passive and blank as he waited for her reaction. "Let yourself _go_."

Another test.

She bit her lip and quickly looked around, and the disappointment overtook his features.

"Are you gonna give me that act again?" He twisted his neck, snarling quietly.

"What?"

He spoke slowly. "Tell me, Doctor, what are you going to do if the guards come in?"

Harleen leaned forward, her breath stuck in her throat and her head spinning.

"I'll keep on doing it," she breathed.

"Good girl," he purred.

She met his gaze – was he waiting for her to refuse, to try to find an excuse, or even blush and look away like a shy little girl? If this was what it took, then, good. She would show him.

Harleen stood up and pushed her chair back, then moved the table so that he could see her fully, where he sat on his chair in his straitjacket. She was trembling underneath his gaze, the way he looked at her. His eyes bore into hers, into her form. She had his full attention and her lower belly clenched.

Slowly, she loosened the bun in her hair and let her golden blonde hair fall out over her shoulders.

Then she opened her coat, revealing her tight red blouse underneath. The top buttons of her blouse were undone, showing skin. He purred quietly, his eyes following her like a cat. Her heart fluttered in her chest, a rosy warmth rising to her cheeks.

She unbuttoned the buttons more, slowly, leaving only a few at the bottom. Still wearing her high heels and tights and pencil shirt, she let her hand go underneath the tight fabric.

The part of her that worried that the door would burst open and reveal Arkham's brightest psychiatrist doing something so shameless, faded away into nothing. Harleen put one leg on her chair and let her fingers stroke herself, as her arousal sparked in the bottom of her stomach.

The first moments were tense, quiet. Then the pleasure came over her, at the tip of her fingers, and she threw her head back and a giggle slipped out of her mouth.

 _Is this total freedom?_

"Good," he mumbled at her and she looked over at her spectator. She was distracted by his thick eyelashes, surrounding those eyes that seemed to burn into hers. His jaw tensed as he watched her.

Harleen bit her lip as she let her fingers work herself, the moistness soaking her panties. The arousal was glowing inside of her, at finally acting out this fantasy. When her gasps got louder, he motioned for her to come closer with a nod of his head.

He widened his legs slightly.

With her breath stuck in her throat, Harleen straddled his clothed lap, the fabric of her tights rubbing against his pants. She knew she had to keep him contained in the straitjacket just in case anyone would burst in before she had time to put it on him again. She would protect him against that punishment, and the rules had been harder lately.

Sitting so close to him and feeling his scent, metallic and acid, was almost enough to bring her to orgasm. She rubbed herself against her hand as he purred, spurring her on.

She couldn't help but wonder if he had ever had another woman doing this to him, if she was the first who lived long enough to end up on his lap.

She had never been so close to him before, but it suddenly wasn't enough. Her body was set on fire. She ground her hips against his lap, gasping and trembling as the force built in the bottom of her spine, between her hips.

It intensified and she grasped his shoulder, moaning quietly. She felt his hot breath against her neck, faster than usual. He was hard between her legs.

Harleen ground her pelvis hard into him, faster, harder as she let one hand stroke her clit. Her legs trembled and she slid closer towards him, then gasped into his mouth.

Suddenly she flinched.

His large hand, cold and smooth, had joined hers.

Her heart almost stopped and her face flushed red. "J -"

"Shhh." He looked into her eyes as he caught the sticky wetness on his fingers and stroked her back and forth, occasionally skimming her slit and sending electric jolts through her body. Her legs trembled violently and she supported her full weight on his body, leaning forward into his chest.

His fingers stroked and pressed her clit, deeper, faster. She threw her head back and her mouth fell open. Just as his fingers tipped her over the edge and away into pure bliss, his lips caught hers and swallowed the breathy moan. His lips molded against her, hard.

With her hair spread out and blood coloring her skin pink, she fought to regain her breath. The thoughts spun through her mind, how he managed to get free from the straitjacket and waited until this very moment, how his lips had felt and his hands…

He chuckled at her, she could feel his entire frame shake slightly. Harleen quickly straightened up and shot him a glare. By pure reflex, she tucked her hair away behind her ears and tried to tidy herself up.

"Now wasn't that fun, Doctor?" he purred. He licked his lips and she swallowed hard. He had won this round.

He looked amused, but he was still hard. The feeling of being so close to this man, this man that had been deemed the most dangerous and deranged in the country, feeling his arousal, was nothing but intoxicating.

"Yes," she breathed, then slid off his lap.

Harleen slowly got down on her knees. When he saw what she was doing, the amusement on his face switched; a spark of something mischievous and - _doubt_ taking its place.

Once again she wondered if he had ever done this before, if he had been touched like this by someone from his hooded past. Whatever it was, he didn't show it. He sat in front of her on the chair, his legs spread wide and visibly hard through his pants.

She worked with the elastics of his waistband, and slowly eased his pants down his narrow hips.

He stared at her – he still didn't believe she would really _do_ it, with the entrance door behind her. Well, the joke was on him. She didn't even want to show him anymore; her own desire overtook completely.

She lifted the fabric and saw his length, hard and smooth and white, just like the rest of his bleached body.

Harleen didn't stop for a moment once she took a hold of it. She took him to the back of her throat and smirked as he heard his breathing get completely stuck. His entire body stiffened at the sensation and he groaned.

She felt more powerful than ever before, down on her knees between her patient's legs, feeling his free hands in her hair, tugging at it.

She let her moist lips work up and down his shaft. Her practice from her university days came to good use – he was well endowed and she could not fit the entire length of him in her mouth, but she had numbed her gagging reflex.

She slicked the cock with her saliva and then went to tease the tip again. He stared at her, eyelids fluttering and a guttural groan escaping his lips as she swirled her tongue around the soft, mushroom shaped tip.

She massaged the sensitive head with her mouth, letting her teeth scrape it occasionally just to feel his hands tighten against her scalp – with less force than they both wanted, as he was still restrained. His nails bore into her skin and she shuddered.

The faint pink tinged head of his cock was perfect and smooth, and she smiled around it. He growled steadily at her now, she knew he wanted her to loosen the straitjacket. But this was much funnier, so she ignored him.

Harleen looked deep into his eyes, as she let her tongue dip into his creamy slit.

His eyes rolled into the back of head for a moment and his entire lower body arched impulsively into her mouth. She tasted his pre-cum as his hips thrust harshly; he tried to get further into her.

She swallowed around him and then gave a little moan, feeling the vibrations around him. He was rock hard in her mouth, balls tightening, and he was completely at her mercy.

Pain spread across her scalp as he scraped it. Her golden hair was wrapped around his fists, and she entertained the thought of letting him out of the straitjacket just to see what he would do to her. How far he would go.

The thought made her clench up inside, wetness from before pooling between her legs.

Who was the one with the real grip around the other? As she smirked at him, through the cock in her mouth, his brow furrowed and he bared his teeth slightly.

There was a sound from outside in the corridor and Harleen almost withdrew. But The Joker remained unaffected, body spread out in front of her, and she shrugged it off and relaxed.

She continued with her work, just a little bit faster, going down and coming up, massaging his member and tickling it with her tongue from base to tip, watching his face contort again.

Her hands moved over his muscular thighs, feeling how tense they became every time he thrust himself deeper into her throat. She sneaked her hands across his lower back to get a better grip around him.

His wet dick slid in and out of her mouth, sometimes almost choking her, and her desire grew. She watched his muscles flex with every movement, listening to his breathing going up and down. She nuzzled his abdomen briefly, inhaling him deeply.

She let her teeth graze his skin again, harder, and he grunted. Harder she met his thrusts and then he pulled back just as he came.

She tasted his release with open eyes, smiling triumphantly, as it filled her mouth, warm and nice. She felt it dribble out from her lips, down her chin and onto her coat. He thrust lazily into her mouth as his cock slowly softened a bit. She carefully licked the fluids off him and off her own face and swallowed. He watched all the time, blue eyes set on her.

Harleen slowly rose to her feet again and his red lips stretched out into a cheerful grimace. She sat on his lap again, her pencil skirt stained with white cum, and then placed both her hands on his face and kissed him.

He licked some drops off her lip and she giggled. One of his hands was between her legs, he was striving to regain his control. His finger toyed with the fluid among her folds and letting his nails bite into her skin.

She had taken back the power and there was nothing he could do about it. She rubbed her pelvis against his sensitive cock, smiling widely. The steps were louder outside the room now and she knew they only had a few minutes left before the guards came knocking to escort him away. She thanked the higher powers that this room did not have CCTV.

"Your condition has improved, _Doctor,_ " he said breathily, almost driving her over the edge again. "Now go and put that knife to use. Make me proud and make it funny."

A while later, she sat in a meeting with her colleagues, knowing they all noticed the dried white stain across her red blouse. Harleen smiled widely and treacherously at them.

In her pocket the little knife rested, and she spent the time imagining how she would paint her doctor's coat in a brighter color, once Mister J told her to. But from that day on, she knew how to play.

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Reviews are welcome!

Love, Crystallinee


End file.
